Attention Shoppers: Yaoi In Aisle 3!
by Rusty Crackpipes
Summary: CRACK. AU. AkuRoku: In which Roxas encounters several pyschotic employees, a missing Hayner, killer soda machines, followers of Bowie-ism, managers with OCD, aisles and aisles of crap at reduced prices, and one less-than-helpful Axel. Gotta love Wal-Mart.
1. Madness With A Side of Sims, Please

**AUTHOR'S NOTE! **Oh. My. God. It's my very first yaoi fic. EVER. So naturally, it has crack and AkuRoku. Or course. I should get a medal. Umm. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I was on crack while I wrote this. Hopw it doesn't melt your brains too much, kay? Enjoy~ :D

**PAIRINGS! **AkuRoku. Zemyx. Soiku. And any other random ones I decide to throw in here. :D

**EDIT! **I didn't have time to proofread last night, so I did today. Yay for procrastination~

**DISCLAIMER!** Sadly, I don't own Kingdom Hearts or it's characters. That belongs to Square Enix, kthnx. And no. Wal-Mart isn't mine either. -sadface-

**

* * *

**

**I: "Madness with A Side of Sims, Please."  
**_In which sanity is sacrificed for the good of The Sims 3._

It was only in a dire situation when Roxas would even _consider_ asking Hayner for a ride, let alone risk actually getting _into_ a car with him.

Roxas Strife liked living, thank you very much.

And as the screech of well-worn brakes screamed in Roxas's ears, on the verge of making his delicate eardrums explode, the blonde wondered if his current situation counted as dire. Not daring to loosen his vice-like grip on the upholstery of the seat he was occupying, Roxas very nearly slapped himself.

Of course The Sims 3 was worth it.  
_Of course_ it was.

"Hayner.. When was the last time you had your brakes checked?"

"Huh? Oh those things? Never bothered. Like hell I'm wasting _my_ well-earned cash on something like that." Was the blunt response. Hayner swerved out of the way of a kid on a bike, tongue poking out in concentration, honking loudly to punctuate his point. Roxas paled, and clutched at the seat harder — His fingers were starting to go numb.

He would've done the smart thing and driven himself, if not for the curse of learner's permits and needing a parent — or a driver over the age of twenty one — in the car with him.

Damn his mother and her random spa/shopping/girl's night out/I'm-sick-and-tired-of-my-sons days.  
This was all her fault.

And so, lacking in both another parent and someone over the age of twenty-one, it was a desperate Roxas indeed that came to Hayner (via texting...Desperate texting) and begged the older boy for a ride.

A ride where?  
So far to four different Best Buys, five Gamestops, one Burger King, two Blockbusters, two gas stations, and one Twilight Town Mall.

All in hopes of finding one copy of The Sims 3.  
Just one little copy was all Roxas wanted.

On the first day it was released.

Was that so much to ask?

Apparently so, because every store he dragged Hayner into had the same answer:

**Sold. Out.**

The two most terrible words any true gamer that hasn't pre-ordered a copy before the release date can ever hope to hear. Roxas nearly cried when even the mall — the freaking _mall_ of all places — didn't carry a copy. But being the manly-man, almost-sort-of-quite-nearly-there straight person he was, the blonde could only suck it up and try to find another store.

Sigh.

Hayner took a loud sip from a soda cup, filled with Pepsi and brandishing the Burger King logo, nearly hitting a stray cat as he did so. Not daring to say anything as he proceeded to run a stop sign and flip off some innocent old lady who only wanted to cross the street, since Hayner did after all drive him all around the city, Roxas bit his lip and chewed pensively.

The digital clock over the shiny, new satellite radio (something Hayner _was_ all too happy to spend his money on) signaled that it was 10:07. At night. Oh crap.

Everything would have closed by now.

Even if it was a Friday night.

"So where to now, Rox?" came the impending question. As much as it killed Roxas to admit it, there was nowhere else to go..

Wait.

Almost in an other-worldly answer to his adolescent problems, Roxas saw it..  
The light from a street lamp shone on the large, blue sign.  
A large yellow smiley face did what it did best; it smiled at Roxas. Just for Roxas.

Wal-Mart. In all it's open 24/7 glory.

It was as if the angles of department stores, cheapness, and air conditioning sang to him.

"...There. That's where I'll find it."

* * *

Somehow managing not to scream like a small girl on helium as Hayner swerved, ran across three unsuspecting bushes, and screeched to a halt in the parking space, Roxas slammed the car door of the beat-up car. By some miracle, it didn't fall off. Thanking his lucky stars, the blonde teen began to walk down the field of asphalt, and towards the shining light that came from Wal-Mart.

It was so heavenly...

Biting his lip once more, Roxas held back the urge to run inside, flailing his arms and screaming live a savage. He didn't need Hayner thinking he was crazy, now did he?. But then again, it wasn't his fault that his best friend simply didn't understand the thrill of creating your very own digital people and controlling their digital lives. Now with better graphics, and the ability to visit your neighbors.

Ah, the beauty of spending summer days in an air conditioned room and living out simulated lives.

Roxas wasn't crazy. Or in need of a life.  
Of course not.

Finally, _finally_, Hayner caught up with him, pocketing the keys to his car. Roxas took a breath and proceeded to step through the automated doors, a welcome blast of air conditioned air hitting his slightly sweaty face. Ah, nothing like the smell of reduced prices and quality service.

"Hi there! Welcome to Wal-Mart~" an enthusiastic male nearly pounced on the two teens. Roxas blinked.

Maybe it was his eighties-era mullet, or his too-big-to-fit-on-his-face grin, _or _the 'I (Heart) David Bowie' pin on the boy's blue vest, but something told Roxas that this guy was missing a few marbles. Or had a diet that only consisted of Pixie Stix and pure, unrefined sugar. Either one seemed to work.

Who could be so damn happy about working as a Wal-Mart greeter, anyway?

_Each man to his own_, Roxas decided with a few tentative steps away from Mullet-Boy.

"Can I help you two with anything?" Another big, cheesy grin and an innocent blink of the eye followed this.

"Um.. Yeah," Roxas was still debating if her should run far, far away to the next aisle and find someone else, "I was wondering..."

Suddenly, static filled the store, and a voice cackled through the speakers.

"Calling employee number nine, Demyx Myde. Calling Mullet-Man to the front desk. A lost boy was found; about four feet tall and emo, blue-ish emo hair, carrying a generic emo-kid diary... Can the parent of this poor emo child — Mullet-Man — come and pick shorty up? That'll be all, fuckers."

Another cackle, and the bubbly pop of Katy Perry (Roxas inwardly shuddered) once more filled the store.

There was silence, only interrupted by _I kissed a girl, and I liked it. Oh, I liked it..._

And then the strange boy in front of Roxas stomped his foot down, a childish pout etched on his young features.

"That's not funny, Axel!" he whined loudly, facing the direction over where a sign with 'Customer Relations' hung, "You do that every time Zexion comes to visit me!"

He — whom upon closer inspection, Roxas found a name-tag that indeed read Demyx Myde, with a small happy face scribbled in — let out a childish little huff, and turned to face the blonde. An apologetic smile dusted his features, and Demyx ran a hand through his hair (how he didn't mess up the mullet, Roxas had no idea).

"Sorry, dude. Something," he smiled sheepishly, "came up. I'm sure someone else will help you though! Bye~"

And with that, he scurried off, the soles of his worn and bright orange Converses slapping the polished floors gently.

Roxas sighed, not knowing whether it was of relief or stress, and turned to face Hayner.  
Or at least, where Hayner was a few minutes ago.

Only empty space greeted him.

"Greeeeat. He must have run off somewhere, leaving me all alone here. Great. Just great," the blonde muttered to himself, walking down the overly-polished hall.

A few halls, racks of clothing, and Jonas Brothers/Miley Cyrus posters later, Roxas had still found no help. But more importantly, he had still found no Sims 3. That is until, once more like an other-worldly answer to his whims, a tall figure stalked past him — His white clothing, blonde hair, and Roxas's Simsless-induced delusional state made him seem nearly angelic. The blonde teen practically mowed him over once he spotted the signature blue Wal-Mart vest atop the white clothing.

It was truly a man sent from heaven.

"Hey, um. I need some help..." his excitement to have finally found an employee, however, quickly faded when he noticed that this one was as strange — if not more so — than the other one, Demyx-Myde-with-a-smiley-face.

"Yes, yes. We here at Wal-Mart pride ourselves on providing assistance to our loyal customers. How may I be of help to you?" venomous green eyes scrutinized Roxas with interest as the man spoke in a slightly high-pitched and nasaly voice. Roxas took a few steps back away from the middle-aged man, eyeing the man with a raised eyebrow. The way this strange person — Vexen, his name tag depicted in a neat script — composed himself freaked the blonde teen out a little. It was like Roxas was a lab rat or something. Ugh.

"Y-Yeah..." the teen cleared his throat, remembering his dire need to come here in the first place, "I was kind of wondering if you carried a copy of—"

But alas, poor Roxas was once more cut off.  
This time, by a wild shriek, and a rather large man throwing himself ungracefully atop a pile of Bounty paper towels.

Vexen whirled around, his eyes widening in a crazy, nearly laughable fashion. Roxas peeked out from behind him to see what was going on.

A screech could be heard, and then came a lone shopping cart, speeding past the aisle Roxas was in so that it was just a blur. The blonde teen could only _just_ make out a flash of red and a blue vest, before the cart sped away.

"Better watch yourself, there, Lexy!" a familiar voice cackled. Roxas recognized it from the one who had spoken on the intercom a few minutes ago. Axel, was it?

Without another word, Vexen ran in a crooked sort of hobble in the direction of the rogue cart, leaving Roxas unsure of whether to burst out laughing or run away. Either way he was alone again.

Crap.

Still Hayner-less and in need of The Sims 3, Roxas once more took up the task of trying to find an employee — This time, one who didn't get caught up in something he really didn't want to know about.

Sighing, Roxas made a turn and...  
Ran into a water fountain.

Laughter burst out from the room he walked—fell—into, "Nice one, squirt. Better watch out for that air too, I hear it trips even the best of us."

Dusting himself off, Roxas scowled both from the pain and from whoever spoke. He was about to let loose a few colorful words, until he looked up.

His eyes widened like a kid who had gotten a BB gun fro Chirstmas.

It wasn't the cheap, blue Wal-Mart vest that stopped him from talking.  
It was the hair.

_The hair_.

Enough said.

"No pictures, please," the male lounging on the counter of the help desk smirked, catching Roxas in his unabashed staring. The younger boy looked away, and concentrated on the hole in his sneaker.

"Hey, um. You work here right?" _Stupid question._

"Hey, um. You have a brain, right?" the male countered in a mocking voice, still probably wearing the cocky smirk. Roxas looked up to glare at him, frowning at the teen dressed in his tight, black jeans, combat boots, and a sleeveless, form fitting (you guessed it) black shirt. The cheap blue vest looked so out of place, Roxas nearly laughed.

Especially with his flaming red hair. Hell, it even looked like fire with all those crazy spikes.

"...Well. I was looking for a copy of The Sims 3. Help me out?"

The flame-haired teen brought a hand up to tap his chin in a mockery of deep thought, "Let's see...Sims 3..."

Roxas bristled, having been deprived of his precious game for too long, giving him a momentary boost of courage, "Do you have it or not?"

"Depends. What's your name, kid?"

_What kind of stupid answer is that?_ "Roxas."

"Aren't you going to ask me _my_ name?" he widened his smirk into a dog-like grin.

_Who care what it is? I just want my freaking game_. "..What's your name?"

In a flash, the guy had jumped off the counter and was leaning over Roxas — towering a good twelve inches over him — still grinning like mad. Geez, he was a regular Cheshire-freaking-Cat.

"Me? I'm Axel. A-X-E-L, got it memorized?"

Not bothering to point out that he could have simply read his name tag, Roxas took a step back, "..Um. Cool?"

Looking satisfied, Axel-got-it-memorized hoisted himself back unto the counter, and tilted his fiery mane towards Roxas, and spoke almost as if an afterthought "Oh yeah, we're sold out of the Sims by the way."

"What?! I put up with your bullshit, just to know it's sold out?!"

"Yep," Axel popped the P at the end, "Ain't life a bitch?"

No..

_No..._

This was not happening. Not to Roxas. Not after he came so far.  
No. Fucking. Way.

Once more fueled by the dire need for a PC game that only a true gamer such as himself could possess, Roxas found the courage to grab Axel by the lean shoulders and narrow his eyes menacingly.

"There is no way that game is sold out. _No way_," he muttered through clenched teeth. Ah yes, behold an angry Roxas after an entire day of being cooped up in a car with only a measly Whopper for food and Hayner to talk to. For. An. Entire. Day.

"Whoa, whoa. Peace, okay? I mean you no harm," the older teen let out a short laugh and put his hands up, "Calm down, the world's not coming to an end."

Roxas backed up only an inch. Not even. A centimeter.

"I'm not really supposed to tell shit like this to a mere customer, buuuut. Since you're _special_," he winked, "I guess it wouldn't kill me to let it slip we're getting a new shipment of your precious little Sims tomorrow morning. You can let go now, if you want."

Catching the playful glint in the male's vivid emerald eyes, Roxas fought the urge to blush and stepped back, shoving his hands in the pocket of his cargo pants.

"See you in the morning, kiddo," Axel saluted, watching for the blonde to leave.

But no..  
He couldn't risk having the game sold out again.  
And he couldn't risk getting into a car with Hayner again.

His mother wouldn't be home the rest of the night, and didn't Sora mention he was sleeping over Riku's house tonight?

"..Hey," Roxas looked up at the red head, "You guys are open 24/7, right?"

Axel grinned rather knowingly, "Yeah, we are. Your point?"

"There's no way I'm missing out on that game. I'm waiting here for the rest of the night."

And Axel — worker of the graveyard shift supreme — could only grin crookedly.

Poor little Roxy had no idea what he was about to get himself into.

* * *

**CADAVER SPEAKS! **OH GOD. I'M ON CRACK.

I have no idea how you survived reading this so far. Srsly, I don't know what was going on in my head either. But I figured, hey. Wal-Mart is the cause of most life experiances. AkuRoku is godly. Why not mix these two forces together?

Ah yes. Axel and wreaking havoc in Wal-Mart.  
My mind is dead. :D

Weeeeell. I figure, once you're here, might as well stick around for the ride, eh?  
And maybe you'll even give me a little review? Yeeeeah?

Heh, see you when my mind is on retard-mode again, bitches.

...By the way.  
Sims 3 is godly.  
And I have yet to get a copy. ;o;


	2. Of Pinkettes and Porn

**AUTHOR'S NOTE!** And so, I was on crack again. So I decided to write more of this silly story. The plot thickens! Hayner pops in, we meets a certain pink-haired idiot, Axel is Axel, and Roxas just wants this all to be over. What more could you ask for? Ohhh. Major thanks to a certain Erik for shoving things up his nose with me and giving me the best ideas ever. I enjoy the him on crack more than I enjoy the me on crack. :D Annnnd. This was typed up on my shiny new laptop (Best birthday gift everrrr), so I'm not quite used to the keyboard. I'm sorry for any mistakes I didn't catch. D: This one is a little shorter than it's older brother (or sister, I'm not quite sure), so I'm sorry for that. But it's packed with more crack (somehow. xD), so enjoy it and leave a review~

**DISCLAIMER!** If I owned Kingdom Hearts, it'd be rated M for yaoi, crack, and foul language. Disney would hate me. c:

* * *

**II: "Of Pinkettes and Porn"  
**_In which the tea cups at Disney World meet their match._

**Hour One.  
Wal-Mart Mission: Electronics Department.**

How big could Wal-Mart possibly be? A few thousand square feet? A few million feet?  
Roxas groaned, wandering the aisles slowly. How stupid could he be? Getting lost in a Wal-Mart...

Fucking peachy.

The blonde sighed, glancing at his watch for what must have been the millionth time. 10:26, the digital numbers shone up at him, mocking him almost. There were still about nine hours or so until the delivery trucks came, loaded up with the most precious cargo imaginable.

A nine hour wait inside Wal-Mart until he could finally buy The Sims 3.  
_Totally_ worth it.

(Just like waiting on line for 4 hours in the rain, and then dealing with the flu afterwards, for Guitar Hero III was worth it.)

The only problem, Roxas sighed as he passed a random patio display, was what to do until then. It wasn't his _best_ plan, next to that one time he tried to superglue Sora's tongue to the roof of his mouth.

..Damn, the guy can snore.

But back to the point, Roxas had to find _something_ to do. And fast.  
Or else his tiny teenage attention span would drive him to insanity.  
But what? He was in Wal-Mart for crying out loud!

Wait...

It would have been appropriate if a light bulb went off above his blonde little head.  
He _was_ in Wal-Mart, wasn't he?

And Wal-Mart...  
Had a video games/electronics section, didn't it?  
(How he hadn't realized this revelation much sooner, no one could be sure.)

Nine hours of the latest video games and (once he found the in-store restaurant) ice-cold soda?

He could live with that.

* * *

Back at the ranch — or rather, back at Aisle 4 — a certain Hayner giggled.  
A manly giggle.

He brought the..._Ahem_, gentlemanly publication closer to his face and man-giggled once more.

And by gentlemanly publication, I mean dirty magazine.  
And by dirty magazine, I mean porn rag.

So..  
Who was Roxas, again?

* * *

_Shuffle Shuffle._

Roxas paused, and turned to look around him furtively.  
No one. Just an empty bedding aisle.

He shrugged, thinking the bout of recent paranoia was spawned only from lack of Sims and continued on his merry way towards the electronics. Up ahead, the blue sign (the words 'Electronics/Gaming' never looked so beautiful) hung from the ceiling; insert angelic choir here, please.

But first, he had to pass through the clothing department.

A simple enough task on its own, for who would ever suspect clothing of anything malicious? Not counting that horrible sweater his grandma had sent him that one Christmas, of course. So he continued on, unaware of the approaching stupidity about to hit him like a fat Sakura cosplayer. Or a freight train. Either was appropriate.

_Shuffle Shuffle Giggle._

The blonde teen paused once more, now certain that he had heard something not born out of paranoia. Roxas turned slowly, wildly considering going into a poor imitation of something out of a badly dubbed kung-fu movie. But only for a moment.

_Giggle Giggle._

The high-pitched wheezing noise came from a perfectly ordinary circular rack of cheap-looking clothing (now on sale 50% off). Ignoring the better, saner side of his brain which was screaming at him to turn the other way and pretend nothing ridiculously suspicious had just happened, Roxas cautiously approached the clothing rack.

In response, a horribly frilled pink tank top, laced with ribbons and roses in various shades of the horrid color, fell from the rack of otherwise boring clothing and more high-pitched giggles could be heard as the rack itself shook. The blonde quirked an eyebrow and pushed some of the clothes away.

Instantly, he wished that he had agreed with the sane side of himself and ran the other way. Ran far away. Very far.

What greeted him from within the rack of clothing was nothing more than a large, inappropriately shaped party horn, which did the task of further ruining Roxas's hearing with its loud screech.

And once it was dropped, what greeted a now surprised and slightly deaf Roxas was nothing other than a rather thin man with long, flowing, and obviously greatly cared for pink hair.

His hair was pink.  
Freaking _pink_.

Before the blonde teen could even respond to this physical oxymoron, he — or was it a she, maybe? — _It_ giggled once more. In a very high pitched and non-masculine way.

"H—H—Hiiiii," the thing barely breathed out from its fit of laughter. But its voice was deep, so Roxas could safely go under the assumption that was a man. Or at least, an effeminate man.

"Um.. Hi?" Roxas responded slowly. He racked his brain for something else to say to the giggling being, but came up blank. What could _anyone_ say to something like this?! Squinting at the nametag on his blue vest, Roxas realized that this man was actually an employee. Marluxia, the tag said in loopy script.

Roxas took a step back (based on his previous experiences with this particular Wal-Mart's employees), and watched Marluxia-I'm-totally-baked-off-my-ass warily.

An awkward sort of silence followed, the male hidden inside the clothing rack still giving off occasional spurts of giggles. After a few more seconds, the blonde figured that the guy was trying to say something through all the laughter. But poor Roxas, not fluent in the giggle-speak of pink-haired men who had a _little_ too much of whatever plant was sold in back alleys, could not for the life of him discern what this particular pinkette was trying to say.

So he did the only thing that any adolescent male could do in such a situation.

He walked away.  
Oh, he walked the fuck away.

But whilst trying to both clear his memory of what just happened and still try to find the way to the electronics, the blonde didn't notice a tall, lanky figure drift towards him. Not until said tall figure leaned in and blew a puff of warm air into his ear, at least.

"HolyshitohmyGodwhatthehellwasthat?!!"

Axel laughed raucously, adding insult to Roxas's personal injury, needing to support himself by holding onto his knee after hearing Roxas emit _the_ loudest and girliest scream he had ever heard in his nineteen years of life.

Oh, he knew this kid was special from the moment he laid his eyes on him.

"Hey there, nice to see you too." With laughter still glistening in his eyes, Axel shoved his hands in his back pockets and circled slowly around the blonde in front of him, looking ludicrously like a vulture, emerald eyes a'sparkling.

Or at least, Roxas thought while still trying to hide the redness of his cheeks (and failing miserably), a vulture with his head on fire.

"What do you want?" the blonde shot at him, crossing his arms. His bottom lip jutted out slightly, ruining any angry effect he had wanted to pull off. But he went on anyway, looking more like a pouting child instead of the whole I-will-end-you look he was going for.

Axel, having that sort of emotional immunity (or the fact that maybe he just really didn't give a shit), brushed it off with a smirk, "Now is that how you greet the man who saved your life?"

"Saved my... _What?_"

"Well ooooobviously," he punctuated this by wrapping a skinny arm around Roxas's shoulders, "If I hadn't told you that we'd be getting a whole lot of Sims in the morning, you would've gone home, sat in your spotless little bathroom, and offed yourself. Can't have that, now can we?"

And before Roxas could even sputter out that his logic was a total crock of shit, Axel had already tightened his grip and steered the blonde teen away from the heavenly electronics department and towards the depths of Wal-Mart where, surely, more stupidity was about to ensue. Which really only confirmed one thing for little Roxas:

Axel was an evil, evil man with no concern for the needs of an adolescent with a video game addiction (or in Roxas's words, a medical condition where he _must_ experience the thrill of killing zombies and such on a daily basis for hours at a time.. Or he'll die) and had a much stronger grip than Roxas assumed.

Oh joy.

* * *

And from the hellish depths of the clothing department, Marluxia insisted to his new found friend — A thin, low-cut shirt colored in deep rose — that he was on his break.

Or at least, he tried to.

Those pretty colors were _so_ damn distracting, after all.

* * *

**CADAVER SPEAKS! **Oh. My. God. ..Again. I blame Erik for the Pothead!Marluxia. But no fear! There is a back story to all this crack. What's left of the sane part of me demanded that I had at least, some tiny grain of reason behind all this.

Um. Yeah. Don't kill me please. c:  
I like living. Like Roxas.

Aaaand. Um. Yeah.  
More Org. people to come in the next chapter!

Also, THANKS SOOOO MUCH to all my reviewers. I kind of had a spasm when I saw how many hits/favs/alerts and reviews this got.  
So many thanks to all of you amazing people.  
-throws confetti-

But maybe, perhaps, as a late birthday gift (I am now 16, hoho) you could leave a review? :D

See you on the next chapter, bitches.

CADAVER: OUT.


End file.
